Over a Cup of Coffee

If you see @100reasons2live following or replying to you, that's me! 🤣 . Midnightraine131 is just my secondary blog that I created 10 years ago. I don't want to start a new blog because I don't want to lose 10 years' worth of blog posts.

Please don't be creeped out if I reply on my other account. 😭

Hiding in Plain Sight (On Going)

| Ao3 | Modern AU | Cover art by @petrichorpeacee on X |

Warnings: Mature, Major Character Death, Explicit 18++ Annie, a determined 31-year-old journalist, is assigned to cover the mysterious disappearance of Carly Stratman, an aspiring actress. She hopes that by solving this case, she will earn the approval of her father and establish herself as a successful columnist. However, as Annie delves deeper into the investigation, she realizes that the situation is more complex than she initially thought. On the other hand, Armin, a brilliant 29-year-old district attorney, is also involved in the Carly Stratman case as part of an elite team prosecuting high-profile homicides in New York. Coming from a family of well-known federal judges, Armin feels immense pressure to succeed in his career. Growing up in a divorced family has left him skeptical about finding love and commitment in marriage. As Annie and Armin collaborate to unravel the mystery behind Carly's disappearance, their professional relationship begins to blossom into something more. Chapters: | 1 - Hits Different | 2 - Midnight Stroll | 3- Longing Nights | 4 - You All Over Me | | 5 - Ribs | 6 - Whirlpool | 7 - False God (18++) | 8 - Bad Omen | 9-Borrowed Time | 10 - Bitter Pill | 11 - Ghost | 12 - Burgundy (18++) | 13- Part I: It's in the Girls I Bring to Bed | | 14- Part II: It's in the Girls I Bring to Bed |

Love Letters from the Skies to the West Coast (On Going)

| Ao3 | HS Modern AU | Cover art by @klaradraws |

Warnings: Mature They say the most judgmental people are those who attend church on Sundays. Despite growing up in a Christian household, Armin Arlert felt overburdened by the pile of ministry activities assigned to him. So he made a pact with himself to never follow in his father's footsteps and become a pastor. With the goal of saving enough money to persuade his parents to let him move to another state after high school, he started accepting paid essay projects in school in secret. Everything in Armin's busy life seemed manageable until he met Annie Leonhart, a Californian girl whose parents had moved her against her will to Vermont. Upon discovering Armin's secret business, Annie approached him with a unique request: to write love letters for a long-distance lover. To craft the perfect love letters, she would help Armin embark on a journey of firsts— his first kiss, first hug, first date, and first everything in a relationship. Chapters: | 1 - Blind Sided | 2 - Falling into Disgrace | 3 - Word Play | 4 - Angel in Disguise |

Invisible Golden String (One-Shot)

| Ao3 | Modern AU | HiPS extra |

Contribution for Aruani day! Timeline took place after HiPS Chapter 15. Spoiler free!

IVY (On Going)

| Ao3 | Modern Au | A JeanPiku POV in Hiding in Plain Sight |

Pieck Finger, a shut-in artist who works as an editorial illustrator, has been emotionally stagnant for a decade after the death of her lover, Porco Galliard. She has isolated herself from the world and refuses to let anyone in until she crosses paths again with Jean Kirstein, a prosecutor who assists the District Attorney in various homicide cases in New York. They bond over shared experiences and find comfort in each other's company. As their relationship progresses, Pieck reflects on her past love and contemplates the possibility of finally moving on.

ダンダダン

dandadan charms are up for preorder! (personal store | etsy)

Pairing: Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart

Tags: Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Teenage Love, Awkward First Times, Slow Burn, POV Armin Arlert, Bottom Armin Arlert, Wet Dreams

Warning: R18 contains sensitive topics

Summary: They say the most judgmental people are those who attend church on Sundays. Despite growing up in a Christian household, Armin Arlert felt overburdened by the pile of ministry activities assigned to him. So he made a pact with himself to never follow in his father's footsteps and become a pastor. With the goal of saving enough money to persuade his parents to let him move to another state after high school, he started accepting paid essay projects in school in secret. Everything in Armin's busy life seemed manageable until he met Annie Leonhart, a Californian girl whose parents had moved her against her will to Vermont. Upon discovering Armin's secret business, Annie approached him with a unique request- to write love letters for a long-distance lover. To craft the perfect love letters, she would help Armin embark on a journey of firsts— his first kiss, first hug, first date, and first everything in a relationship.

A week had passed since the camp. Usually, after big events like this, the youths would have a week of rest from their ministry duties in the church. As a result, Armin had ample time to finish all the essays in his backlog, draft half of Annie’s letter, clean his room, bathe the kitten, complete his assignments for the weekend, summarize the topics he would discuss in the Bible studies, and submit them to the church leader. For him, nothing was more satisfying than seeing all these tasks finished on a Friday night.

Having a Saturday without much to do was something new for him. His parents weren’t blasting worship songs on the stereo at seven in the morning or barging in to force him to come down and eat breakfast with them. He took this chance to finish his devotion for the day.

Besides his usual routine being disrupted, waking up without seeing Annie next to him made him feel like he was missing something. Lately, more clients had been coming into the clinic, so Hange asked Annie to work a half-day shift today. Armin considered dropping by later to see her—but then what? Bring her food? Ask her to go to the mall with him? Hang out in the treehouse? Was it considered asking her for a friendly date?

Maybe not today.

She was probably tired after working the whole week following the exhausting days at the camp.

Armin shook his head, forced himself out of bed, and locked his window before taking a fresh towel from the cabinet. He switched on the heater before stepping into the bathroom.

Examining his hair, he found it annoyingly frizzy but decided it might not need a wash today since he had no plans to go out. He sprayed dry shampoo on his hair, massaging his scalp until he was satisfied before brushing the strands with his powdery fingers. He took one black elastic band to tie his hair up, noticing it had grown a bit longer now that the tie could hold it more tightly, though some shorter strands still escaped and fell to his ears and cheeks. He glanced at the mirror to examine his appearance. His long hair, soft features, and petite frame made him look fragile. He didn't need to wonder why Annie liked him.

Pairing: Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart

Tags: Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Teenage Love, Awkward First Times, Slow Burn, POV Armin Arlert, Bottom Armin Arlert, Wet Dreams

Warning: R18 contains sensitive topics

Summary: They say the most judgmental people are those who attend church on Sundays.

Despite growing up in a Christian household, Armin Arlert felt overburdened by the pile of ministry activities assigned to him. So he made a pact with himself to never follow in his father's footsteps and become a pastor. With the goal of saving enough money to persuade his parents to let him move to another state after high school, he started accepting paid essay projects in school in secret.

Everything in Armin's busy life seemed manageable until he met Annie Leonhart, a Californian girl whose parents had moved her against her will to Vermont. Upon discovering Armin's secret business, Annie approached him with a unique request- to write love letters for a long-distance lover. To craft the perfect love letters, she would help Armin embark on a journey of firsts— his first kiss, first hug, first date, and first everything in a relationship.thing in a relationship.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————

Four pairs of eyes glanced at each other. No words had been spoken for the past ten minutes since Eren climbed up to Armin’s room.

The blond was racking his brain to find a better word to explain their situation in the room to his best friends, without them misconstruing it. At some point, the taller boy couldn't hold it anymore. He dropped his knapsack and the one big bag of potato chips hanging on his right hand to the floor. He gestured to Armin, instructing, “To the bathroom—now, young man!”

Armin quickly stood up from the bed, but as soon as he started to walk, Eren took his hand and dragged him inside the bathroom. Mikasa followed and locked the bathroom door behind them, leaving Annie alone standing in the middle of the bedroom, bewildered.

“Armin, what the fuck?” Eren asked, pinning his friend against the wall. The blond winced as he hit the wall.

“Eren, don’t be too harsh on him. He’s still hurt,” Mikasa reminded him of Armin’s injury, to which the turquoise-eyed boy raised his hand as a gesture for Mikasa not to worry.

Armin sighed, “I told you. Nothing is going on between me and Annie.”

“Armin, your mom is literally in the kitchen, and you have a girl staying in your room. What will you do if she finds out?” Mikasa interrogated.

“She won’t find out,” Armin replied, his brows knitting together.

Eren’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Armin knew he couldn’t get away too easily. “I’m sure you are aware of her reputation. Don’t tell me you lost your V-card to her?”

“Oh, come on!” Armin threw his hands up in mock surrender. “I know she’s been staying with me for quite a while now, but she’s a good person. She actually saved my life.”

“What do you mean?” Mikasa asked, totally worried about their friend.

Armin opened his mouth to tell them what happened last night but got interrupted when they heard Annie knock from the other side of the door. Mikasa opened the door behind them, revealing Annie just standing there with her bag on her shoulder. “Y’know what, I must go. I don’t really have plans to stay over. I just came by to check on your friend.” She turned to leave, but Armin noticed she carried a bigger backpack this time. He assumed she brought her own pajamas so she didn’t need to borrow his. Confident in his assumptions, he never failed to catch her lying.

Mikasa and Eren looked at each other, feeling bad for being rude to her. Eren was the first one to talk, “Hey Annie, if you really want to stay tonight, it’s okay. I will just sleep on the carpet.”

Armin turned to him in disbelief, “Eren?”

Mikasa held his shoulder and spoke loud enough for Annie to hear, “We promise we won’t tell anybody about this. Trust us.” Armin trusts his best friends more than anyone in this world, so when Mikasa assured him, he was totally convinced. “You heard them, Annie. Please stay,” Armin tried to convince her. She turned to him to see a pair of begging big blue eyes.

Twenty minutes had passed, and they had settled on Armin’s bed, talking about the incident. Eren spoke most of the time, telling Annie what happened in school, which made Annie curse at Historia. Armin told her not to blame her since it was his fault to begin with. He noticed Annie was silent for a moment, as if she was sunk deep into her thoughts.

“Annie…”

“You need that money, right?” Annie asked out of the blue.

Technically, yes. Armin had already prepared a two-year financial plan, and it would be a hard setback to lose four hundred dollars. Annie seemed to understand the answer before Armin could reply. “Alright,” she stood up and took her pajamas out of her bag. “I’ll sign up for the camp.”

“Annie, you don’t have to. I can earn that money back,” Armin protested. It was not his intention to drag someone into his mess just because he made a mistake.

“Not until you kill yourself overworking. My decision is final. I’m going to the camp with you.” She glanced at him, too cold for Eren’s and Mikasa’s taste, but Armin understood that deep inside her heart, she cared about him.

Before Annie could enter the bath, Mikasa spoke up. “I’ll sign up too.”

“Mikasa!” Eren and Armin called out in unison. Green eyes sparkled and the blue ones were hopeful.

“Tomorrow, we have to go shopping, Annie. I can’t afford for the church people to assume that Armin’s friends are all composed of a witch and—” Mikasa purposely cut what she was about to say.

“—a whore, I know. I finish my shift after five,” Annie continued.

“It’s settled then!” Eren stretched his arms, yawning. “Tomorrow, I will help to cover Mikasa’s shift while they go shopping.”

“Eren, do you know how the counter works?” Armin asked, totally having doubts about his best friend's working etiquette.

“You are working with me, right?” Without asking, Eren set himself on the foot of the bed and dozed off. Armin rolled his eyes, knowing he would have a long day tomorrow at work. But it’s better than working alone anyway. So he replied, “Yeah.”

Mikasa lay on the mattress, on Armin’s left side. As soon as her head settled on the soft pillow, her eyes closed and drifted to sleep. It was obvious on her face how exhausted she had been today from taking care of him. Armin brushed his palm on top of her crown and whispered, “Thank you for today, Mikasa.”

Armin heard Annie emerge from the bathroom; she had changed into her pajamas, and her nape was still moist from the shower. She settled herself on Armin’s right side. When he lay down, he turned to face her, and she took his hand, placing it under her cheek as if it were part of the pillow.

“How can you be so careless?” she asked, trying to stay awake but her eyelids were slowly closing.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and smiled at her before falling asleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Armin heard a loud thud that woke him up. He craned his neck to check what was going on. Eren, who used to be sleeping at the foot of the bed, had moved to Mikasa’s side to cuddle her. Now, four teenagers awkwardly squeezed into a queen-sized bed. When Armin looked at his right side, it was Annie who had fallen off the bed. He heard her groan “Ouch,” but she was too tired to stand on her feet, so she just resumed her sleep on the carpet.

Armin took his pillow and a new blanket from the cabinet before lying next to Annie on the carpet, carefully placing the pillow under her head, waking her up a bit. Her beautiful eyes opened slightly, her pale blue irises glanced at him. Armin didn’t move, scared that he might further disturb her sleep, but instead, Annie threw her arms and legs around him, probably mistaking him for a bolster. He felt something soft underneath her clothes. Realizing she wasn’t even wearing a bra when going to bed, Armin wasn’t sure, but his feelings were torn between "Lord, I don’t deserve this, but thank you for the blessings" and "Oh dear Holy Spirit, please save me."

It took Armin a while to calm whatever he felt down south; he didn’t even want to think about it. Annie stayed over with good intentions and not for anything else. She faced enough scrutiny outside of this room, and he didn’t want her to feel the same when they were together. She didn’t deserve it just because she wanted to be herself and wear the clothes she wanted. He was wrong before. Girls like Annie just need acceptance from other people and not to be told what to do.

And it’s okay to be friends with other girls like her without feeling other things, just like his friendship with Mikasa.

It’s alright. He feels safe with Annie, and he does the same for her. They had become each other’s safe haven ever since the night she first snuck into his room.

Armin couldn’t tell what time he fell asleep, but not too long after, Annie tapped his shoulder to wake him up. “Armin, get up. I will help you change the bandage on your arm. You need to prepare to go to school soon.” She whispered, and he followed suit.

As soon as they entered the bathroom, Annie kicked down the toilet cover and cursed at whoever had used it and left it open. She then asked Armin to sit there. With eyes half open, Armin watched as she prepared the plasters the doctor provided for him a day before. She was already changed into her misty rose-colored scrubs suit, fully ready for work, but for Armin, it felt more like he was in the hospital with a private nurse taking care of him.

Annie noticed him staring at her clothes and guessed he was curious about why she was up early. “Hange has scheduled an operation at nine. I have to be at the clinic an hour before to prepare the operating room. She’ll pay me overtime, so I agreed,” she answered without him asking.

She crouched on the floor and held out her hand, “Let me see your arm.” Armin hesitated, gripping tightly on his arm. He was not used to getting hurt since his parents protected him too much as a little kid, to the extent that they didn’t allow him to play outside the house. So Armin could only count on his fingers the events he got serious injuries. Armin also knew the first replacement of the bandages hurt the most because the gauze still stuck into the clotted blood; one wrong pull and the wound would bleed again.

“Trust me, I’m more trained in humans than animals.” She gestured to take his hand, and he gave in eventually. Slowly she peeled the bandages off from his wrist up to his elbows and threw them in the nearby bin. She then proceeded to pull the first gauze, earning a wince from him, but she didn’t care as she continued peeling off the gauze. When it was already too much for him, he suddenly tugged his arm away from her. His face reddened, and a tear threatened to leak from the corner of his eye. Annie sighed, “You have a terribly low pain tolerance.”

“It’s really painful, Annie,” he cried. They spent a good five-minute staring contest before Annie checked the time on her wristwatch. It’s fifteen minutes before seven; it's just a matter of minutes before his mother climbs up to his bedroom to call them for breakfast. She carefully took his arms again and said, “Look away and pinch your other arm as hard as you can so it divides the pain.” Without any other choice, Armin followed her instructions. At least Annie is more considerate than the doctor who took care of his wound yesterday. Before he knew it, all the gauze was already dumped in the bin. True to her word, it was less painful when you pinch yourself. If Armin had known that technique before, his life would’ve been easier. However, it left a small portion of bruises on his other arm. He pinched himself too hard.

Annie used wet wipes to remove the glue stains around the wounds, then she asked Armin to lean in the bathtub so she could rinse the wound in the shower at the right temperature. While letting his arm dry with a towel, she prepared a cotton pad soaked in saline solution. Armin watched her face as she slowly dabbed the pad on his wounds. It didn’t hurt anymore, but the cold effect of the solution made him a little uncomfortable. Then to finish the procedure, she covered his wound with new plasters. She turned his arm to each side to check if the wound was properly sealed before she raised to her feet and tapped the tip of his nose twice. “Good job, tiger.”

Armin watched as Annie cleaned the mess on the sink. “It’s still too early to leave, Annie,” he said, standing up. He felt a bit giddy but managed to steady his balance.

“Yeah, but I have to grab coffee on the way. Coffee shops are usually crowded at this hour,” she replied, stepping out of the bathroom. She grabbed her bag from the foot of the bed and slid its straps to her shoulders.

He rushed after her, “If that is the case, then I will make you coffee every day so you won’t have to leave early for coffee shops.”

“You okay with that?” she turned to him before realizing, “Oh yeah, you make coffees for a living.”

“It’s just a part-time job, and it’s not like Starbucks-level coffee, but I can make a decent one.”

“I bet your coffee is better than Starfucks.” She walked towards the window, opened the glass panels, and slid herself out of his room. “I’ll see you again tonight.”

“Thank you, Annie.” He stood by the window, watching her climb down from the roof to the tree branches to jump onto the streets. He watched until her figure disappeared into the distance.

As if on cue, his mom suddenly opened his door, startling him. “Kids, time for breakfast!”

Being reminded that his best friends were cuddling the last time he paid attention to them, he looked back toward his bed. For some reason, Eren is back at the foot of the bed, sleeping soundly while Mikasa has just woken up, her hair disheveled as she shifted herself to a sitting position, scratching her left eye. Armin let out a sigh of relief.

His mom shot him a questioning look. “Honey, are you okay?” She walked toward him and pulled him into a hug like a five-year-old.

“Mom, I’m fine, and my friends are here. Can you just let me go?” He protested, his face buried in the corner of his mom’s neck. Sometimes he hates being treated like a kid.

His mother ignored him, dragging him out of the room like a ragdoll. “Mikasa, wake Eren up now before the breakfast gets cold.” He heard Mikasa respond with a yes to his mother before going down the stairs. His two friends followed behind.

His father was already sitting at the dining table, sipping his coffee as he scrolled down to his iPad. The teenagers selected their seats and settled, with Eren still in a dreamy daze. His mother served each plate with pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon. She then prepared each batch of bread in the toaster. Mikasa took a carton of milk to fill their glasses.

“How’s your wound, Armin? Who changed the bandages?” his father asked, which caught him off guard for a minute. He realized he forgot to prepare a spiel to explain to his parents his newly cleaned arm.

Mikasa, noticing her friend was in crisis, she butted in, “I helped him clean his wound earlier, but we realized we woke up too early so we went back to bed.”

“Huh? Mikasa, you know how to— ouch!” Mikasa kicked Eren’s foot under the table. Armin felt like his soul almost left his body when his parents glanced at each other.

Realizing his best friends wouldn’t be able to salvage the situation any longer, he spoke, “Mikasa watched a bunch of tutorials on YouTube last night. Remember?”

“Uh- yeah? Yeah, I remember now. That’s right,” Eren replied, nodding. Mikasa glaring at him to keep his mouth shut.

Good thing, his father didn’t press anymore; instead, he decided to change the topic. “Anyway, next week, my cell group —which includes Eren and Mikasa’s parents— will be here for dinner, and we want you guys to join us. You have to set that on your schedule. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” The teenagers responded simultaneously as they dug into their plates.

His mom placed the tray of toasted bread on the center of the dining table. “Also, Pastor Dreyse just got back here in Woodstock and his family will be coming too, so, Armin…” she emphasized his name to get his attention. “Whatever you have to do next Friday night, cancel it.”

Armin narrowed his eyes as he chewed on the bacon, “Mom, is this AruHitch phase of yours still ongoing?” he asked, horrified.

Eren suppressed a laugh but failed, “The fact that you already have a ship name made it seem official.”

Armin rolled his eyes at his best friend.

“Ship name? I’m afraid I’m not following these new terms.” His father butted in, totally confused.

“It’s like combining two names in one. We usually use this for characters in a series if we want them to be together romantically,” Mikasa explained, gesturing her hands like she was giving a lecture at a university. “Soon you will understand, pops.”

Armin’s father winced at the word pops. To Armin’s relief, they seemed to forget about the teasing part and finished their breakfast. Armin kissed his dad and mom goodbye before starting his day.

He wore a long-sleeved sweater to cover his arm. Luckily, only a few students in school are aware of the incident. Armin tends to keep quiet about it to avoid issues against Historia. During lunch break, Armin walked past Historia’s locker, but she wasn’t there. Armin starts to believe she didn’t come to school today. He wanted to send her a text message, but Mikasa was against the idea and suggested it was better to give her some space for a while. The heavy burden in his chest dragged on as the hours passed by. Armin had busied himself for some distraction so he wouldn’t think about it too much. He had done his assignments and essays in between breaks. His shift with his best friend wasn’t too bad either, but he noticed that there were more customers today in the shop than usual. Most of them are middle school girls. He assumes it is because of Eren and his growing popularity with the girls. Armin couldn’t deny how much Eren’s look improved over the years. He was more concerned about what to wear for the day and he’s up-to-date with the current fashion trend. But of course, with Mikasa’s influence, his fashion is more goth or pop rock-inspired, black t-shirts, metal studs, big belts, and fake hoop earrings around the helix of his ears, just like Annie’s but hers are genuinely pierced.

Armin glanced at his reflection from the display cabinet. He has had the same hairstyle since he was five. Full bangs that usually poke his eyelashes when he blinks, golden strands that just end below his jaw. Growing up, Armin used to be bullied because he looked too feminine and frail for a boy. Now that he pays attention to himself, he can tell he still looks like a girl until now and his voice didn’t help either. Most of the boys around the school had outgrown him, and their voices start to boom a bit deeper. Some of the church aunties tell him not to worry about his looks; he probably was one of those rare cases of a late bloomer. Armin sighed. His puberty was long overdue, no wonder no girls showed interest in him.

His shift ended after seven. Both boys handed over the cashier to Sasha, who was scheduled to work in the closing shift. Eren was picked up by his father while Armin separated from his best friend to meet up with Hitch for dinner.

Hitch is Armin’s longest friend— longer than Eren and Mikasa. She was born in a Christian family too, just like him; her parents are both Pastors. The Arlerts and the Dreyses co-founded the community church in Woodstock. However, Pastor Dreyse frequently traveled around Asia for biblical missions while Pastor Arlert stayed in Woodstock to preach and run the church.

Being born in the same year, same environment, and same upbringing, Hitch has become like an older sister to Armin. If only she never had beef with Mikasa, she could’ve been included in Eren’s circle of best friends.

After ten minutes of bantering and tugging each other on the streets about which restaurants to eat at, both of them agreed to settle on DIY hotpot at Armin’s house. They passed by the grocery store to pick up some mushrooms and vegetables. Armin remembered his mom storing leftover beef slices in the fridge, while Hitch kept taking packs of crab sticks, tau kee, and some type of bean curd he couldn’t name anymore. Armin took an extra trip to the coffee aisle, taking a pack of espresso roast coffee beans and a carton of ready-to-froth milk. Armin was sure his dad kept a French press somewhere in the kitchen cupboard. After they had paid at the self-service counter, each of their hands carried a bag of groceries as they walked home. Armin intentionally didn’t mention his arm. Knowing Hitch, once she finds out about the incident, there is a huge chance she’d storm in at Historia's place for a fight. She was worse than Mikasa. Armin learned the hard way.

Hitch crouched at one of the cupboards and took the single induction that had been tucked away behind the kitchenware, as if she knew every inch of this house. Armin prepared the pot before proceeding to wash and chop the vegetables. He took the electric kettle, filled it full with water, and left it on until it boiled. He grabbed the chopping board with veggies and moved across from Hitch on the island counter as she adjusted the heat on the induction before putting in beef flanks and vermicelli noodles. Her hands propped her chin up while she stirred the soup idly.

“Armin, you know you can’t be too greedy,” Hitch deadpanned, watching Armin’s chopsticks take another bundle of enoki mushrooms and slowly laying them on top of the boiling tomato soup.

“If you don’t like mushrooms, then I will eat them all,” Armin said, raising his small bowl to fill it with soup. He was leaning on the counter, ignoring the highchair on his side. “It doesn’t matter if I eat a little much; I will still maintain my abs, though.” He raised the hem of his shirt to show his still well-toned abs.

“Right, those extra calories are being trapped in your cheeks instead,” Hitch retorted, using her chopsticks to push the mushrooms aside to make space for her bean curd.

“Don’t fat-shame my cheeks.”

“You started it.”

“Because you called me greedy.”

Hitch's eyebrow shot up, catching the smug expression on his face before shrugging it off. She took her bowl and filled it with tomato soup and bean curds. She busied herself with her iPad, looking through the worship songs they had to practice for the camp.

The electric kettle automatically clicked off, a sign that the boiling water was ready. Armin took the pack of espresso roast and measured the ratio before placing the grounds in the French press and filling it up with measured water. He took a few careful stirs before covering the cylinder with its lid. He returned to their meal as he waited for the coffee to steep. The smell of coffee wafted around the kitchen, making Hitch crave a cup even if it was already a little late in the night. Armin noticed her watching him make coffee.

“Why are you making coffee at this hour?” she asked.

Armin hummed before answering, “Just practicing.”

“What? Are you going to start working as a barista at Kiyomi’s shop too?”

“No.”

“Then for what?”

Armin squinted his eyes, knowing he couldn’t get away too easily under her scrutiny. “Do you want coffee?”

“Of course, but you haven’t answered my question.”

Dodging the question, Armin refocused his attention back to the French press. He used his palm to press the plunger down, carefully preventing the grounds from escaping into the coffee.

“So, uhm, have you practiced our song for the camp?”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“How’s Pastor Dreyse? I heard he’s back from Singapore.” Armin took the frother to prepare the milk.

“You haven’t answered my question, Arlert.” Hitch crossed her arms, a sign that it was the end of the stretch of her patience.

Armin sighed, “Fine, I’m making it for—” he got interrupted by a sudden loud thud from his room. Horror struck across his face, realizing Annie should be back from shopping. He glanced at the clock. Shoot! It’s already a quarter past eight. It is definitely Annie in his room.

Hitch flinched in shock. Her face questioning Armin, “Aren’t we alone in this house? Did someone break into your room?” She stood up, suddenly shifting to protective older sister mode instinct.

“Oh, Hitch! It’s— it’s nothing?” he dashed around to Hitch's side to stop her from walking up the stairs.

“What do you mean? What if someone wants to kill us?”

“Hitch, you are just being paranoid. It’s just— a ghost?” Armin winced after letting out those words; he wasn’t this bad at lying, but panic had taken over his mind, scared of what would happen if Hitch found out about Annie. There was a huge chance his mother would find out about his secret.

Hitch took a baseball bat from behind the storage room door and silently stepped onto the staircase. “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no way this house is haunted. There is definitely someone up there.”

Armin moved in front of her to block her way, “A poltergeist?”

She shook her head, tightening her grip on the baseball bat. Before Armin knew it, Hitch was already in front of his bedroom door. She was always fast; never in his life did he beat her in a chase. Hitch placed her ear on the door, and when she heard silence, she kicked the door open. Armin prayed so hard for Annie to leave or hide somewhere.

They both entered the room; there was no sign of anyone there but the small white kitten in the middle of Armin’s bed, looking back at them. The kitten tilted its head slightly before jumping onto the floor and ran towards Armin’s feet to brush its tail. Armin sighed in relief as he glanced at the small cage and then at the cat. Did Annie release the kitten before they got into his room? Then if so, where is she?

Hitch turned to him; she was as confused as he was. “Weird. This room even smells like girl’s perfume.” She walked towards the bathroom and forcefully pushed the door open; there wasn’t anyone in there. Then she went to check his closet.

Armin’s eyebrows creased, “I have a feeling that I need to demand a search warrant.” He crossed his arms, masking his nervousness behind a smug expression.

Failing to see anyone in his room, Hitch finally gave up on searching but shot him a warning. She pointed her forefinger at his chest, “You know very well you can’t hide anything from me. I have known you since we were infants. We grew up together in the same environment and the same situation, so I know when you are hiding something. You are like an extension of my body.”

“Oh, please, Hitch. Don’t make it sound weird,” he grunted; his shoulders slumped as he sighed before snatching the bat from her hands. His right arm wrapped around hers as he led her out of the bedroom. “I told you, you’re just being paranoid.” Armin glanced back inside his room before shutting the door closed. He got a glimpse of Annie’s arms emerging from under his bed, taking the kitten from the floor to hide with her. So that’s where she hid herself. It was a relief for both of them that Hitch didn’t think of checking underneath the bed.

Armin placed his head on Hitch’s shoulder as they headed down the staircase. Hitch moved her head to rest on his crown. “You know you are a bitch sometimes.” She started.

“Oh? Why am I the bitch this time?”

“Don’t you think I didn’t know you were the one who ratted me out to my mother about the boy I was seeing? Now everyone in school thinks I ghosted him.”

“I told you he’s not good for you.”

“Is it because he wasn’t a Christian?”

“No. But that guy keeps telling everyone in school who he slept with.” He raised his head and gasped. “Don’t tell me…”

“Shut up! I’m still a virgin— or else mom would shave my head off.” She defended herself before falling silent.

“What’s the matter now?” he asked worriedly.

“There’s a question in my head that I keep thinking about lately—”

“Shoot.”

“Armin.” Hitch pulled him down to sit on the tread, looking at him directly in his eyes. Emerald green eyes lingered on his cobalt blue. “What if one day you met someone who isn’t a Christian and fell in love with her? Would you convince her to be baptized?”

It took a whole good ten minutes of staring contest; Armin swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat, but he was the first one to drop their gaze, looking down at the symmetrical angle of the stairs. Shadows drew illusions through the warm lights coming from the living room, making it seem they were far away from the ground. His mind sought an answer. As a Christian, he knew the exact verses by heart to answer this question correctly, but the back of his head told him to answer honestly. He almost brushed the latter idea off.

“Hitch, you know the answer in the Second Corinthians chapter six verses fourteen to sixteen when Paul said…”

The teenagers cited in unison, Hitch sighing, dejected, “Do not be yoked together with unbelievers. For what do righteousness and wickedness have in common? Or what fellowship can light have with darkness? What harmony is there between Christ and Belial? Or what does a believer have in common with an unbeliever? What agreement is there between the temple of God and idols?”

“In short, we as Christians shouldn’t form a bond with unbelievers because it would pull us away from Him.” He trailed off, pointing up his forefinger. “We must influence unbelievers without them influencing us.”

“I know you would answer that.” Hitch hugged her knees, burying her face in the curtains of ash-brown strands.

Armin thought for a second when suddenly his mind pictured him being with Annie. He didn’t understand why, of all the people in the world, it was Annie who he would think of. He considered giving away his honest answer before he spoke again. “That was my answer if you would ask me as a Youth leader. But if I would answer as an extension of your body—” he used his finger to air quote. “I would say, I don’t want to push those teachings that the church engraved in me as a kid onto my future partner— if she was hesitant to accept that.”

Armin expected Hitch to laugh at his stupid, honest answer, but unexpectedly, she remains silent. Her eyes landed on the same symmetrical angle of the staircase, the same spot he was gazing at a few seconds ago. There was just comfortable silence and two teenagers and increasing warm lights from downstairs. Hitch tucked her hair behind her ears while her mind digested his answer.

“Are you thinking of someone else?” asked Armin, moving closer to her to whisper. Although they are alone in the house, he feels the need to talk softly to his friend.

“Are you jealous?”

“No.”

“Thanks.” She jests, her voice almost just came out airy.

“Do I know this guy?” he pressed further; this time less serious.

“No! no! I’m not thinking of some stupid guy!”

“Stupid guy?” Armin paused to rack his brain for the moments Hitch mentioned hundreds of boy names she had a crush on, he archived a list in the small corner of his mind just in case he needed to blackmail her in the future when one name had clicked the bulb on, “Do you mean Marlowe Freu—” Armin was interrupted by a sudden impact, pinning him to the wall. Hitch's hands covered almost half of his face. “Let go of me! I can’t breathe!” he muffled behind her palms.

“Marlowe is just my partner in literature, and he is stupid for doing most of the job! And he has a stupid haircut! Jeez!” Hitch flushed, pressing her weight on him. “If I’ve known better, you were thinking of other girls too, right? Who is it?”

Armin shook his head but still managed to chuckle at the thought of catching Hitch off guard despite her weight pressing on him.

“Honey, we’re home— oh?” Armin’s mother called downstairs but was surprised at the sight of their position. Hitch was hovering above Armin while her legs spread wide on his stomach. Armin had his injured arm above his head so Hitch wouldn’t hurt him. Both faces are painted a shade of crimson. Hitch was embarrassed while Armin was suffering.

“What are you kids doing?” His father poked his head from the staircase before his face flashed the same surprised expression as his mom had.

“Hi! Pastor and Mrs. Arlert. Uhm— we were having dinner earlier and decided this was the right time to kill each other.” Hitch butted in, finally freeing Armin.

“Hi, Mom, Dad.” Armin acknowledges his parents awkwardly, shifting his body into a sitting position.

Both of his parents glanced at the kitchen island, the soup still simmering in the pot, and a hot coffee resting beside Hitch’s bowl before returning their gazes to them. Armin doesn’t want to think about what his parents are thinking about. The last thing Armin wanted was for his mother to tease him more about Hitch.

Dumbfounded, his mother just nodded, flashing an awkward smile. “I see.” Armin knows that face really well, and at this moment, he just wanted Hitch to strangle him to death rather than suffer from his mother’s teasing.

“You two spare each other for tonight. Let’s have dessert! Mrs. Braun baked some egg tarts for us.” His father offered, raising his other hand, holding a box of tarts.

“That looks good with my coffee.” Hitch skipped a few steps from the stairs to take the box, and Armin followed at a much slower pace, ignoring his mother’s glare from his peripheral vision.

All four of them sat on high chairs at the kitchen island to finish the hotpot Armin and Hitch cooked earlier, having casual updates about school and church. Armin secretly sneaked some tarts onto a separate plate for Annie later. The tarts were sweet and freshly baked. He was sure she’d like that.

After the pot and the box were empty, Hitch gulped the last drop of coffee from her mug before calling it a day. “Thank you, Lord God, for always blessing us with delicious meals.” She finished off her prayer before clapping her hands twice. His parents followed with an amen.

“Alright, thank you for your time tonight, Hitch. Let me drive you back home. I’m sure Mrs. Dreyse is already looking for you.” His father offered.

“Thanks, Pastor!” Hitch gathered all her things to shove them inside her tote bag before glancing at Armin, “Don’t forget to practice our set for the camp. If you mess up our praise and worship, you’ll owe me dinner!” she reminded for the nth time before walking on his mother’s side to kiss her on the cheek. “See you later, Mrs. Arlert.”

“Bye, Hitch.” His mother smiled, gathering their plates to place inside the dishwasher. Armin waved at Hitch before he jumped from his chair to help his mother with the dishes.

When they heard his father’s car roar on the street and the sound slowly faded into the distance, his mother broke the silence, “Hitch is a good girl, Armin.”

“Mom, please don’t get me started.” He sighed, uncapping the dispenser to place a dishwasher pod, and then he threw one inside before closing the machine. He ran the lightest cycle before leaving it to do its job. He reached out at the center of the kitchen island for the plate of tarts he saved for Annie before giving his mother a good night kiss.

“You will still eat in your bedroom?” his mother inquired, placing back clean plates into the cupboard.

“Yeah, midnight snack. Good night, mom, love you.” He kissed his mother on the cheek before rushing up the stairs.

“Good night, honey!” his mother answered back from the kitchen.

Armin slowly opened the door; the creaking sound caught Annie’s attention. She was now changed into her pajamas, her hair curled in different directions as if she just untied it from a tight bun. The kitten snuggled comfortably on her lap, occasionally flicking its tail on her thighs. She caressed the white fur, now cleaner and healthier than when he found the poor thing in the middle of the road.

He walked to her side of the bed, placed the plate on the bedside table, and sat near her feet. His eyes lingered on the kitten as it purred, its round back moving up and down with calm breaths. Armin wished to embrace this kind of peace forever.

“Those tarts are for you,” he started. The sudden shift in the bed’s balance from his weight awakened the kitten. It raised its head to look at him for a second before going back to sleep. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed at the kitten, which made Annie slightly curve her mouth into a smile.

“I already had dinner with Mikasa before I came here, but I wouldn’t say no to tarts,” she whispered. “They look nice.” Armin nodded, smiling as he watched her take a piece and push the tart into her mouth. She hummed in approval.

“So, how was your shopping with Mikasa?” Armin asked, crossing his legs and tucking his hands underneath his calves.

Annie snickered, “You didn’t tell me. Mikasa’s fashion sense sucks.”

Armin chuckled, “I think Mikasa just wanted to be safe for both of you. I know that’s not how you dress, but that’s how people in church look like.”

“I know.”

“Thanks for doing this for me.”

“I just wanted to be there for you, in case you get yourself in trouble.”

Armin bit his lower lip, his face turned a bit serious. “You don’t have to look after me.”

“I know I don’t have to, but if it means that it’s my only way to be with you, then I’m willing to do it.” Her eyes pierced deep into his heart. If he stared at her eyes for a little longer, he might fall, so he dropped their gaze.

“Uh, right.” Armin shifted his position, his face reddened, unsure whether he understood the meaning of what she just said or if she meant nothing by that. He didn’t want to overthink it too much, so he changed the subject. “About the favors you asked me…”

“Yeah? What about it?” she replied dryly.

“I want to help you write those letters.”

For a moment, she looked surprised but amended her expression back to her usual cold façade. “You don’t have to. I already spent my money on shopping.”

“It’s fine; you can pay me later,” he offered. “You tell me what you feel, then I will write it on paper. Deal?”

“Just that?”

He hummed, nodding.

She crossed her arms, her eyes darting to the ceiling.

Hi! I'm currently on overseas holiday, and our travel time took a ridiculously long 12 hours without stable internet (my back hurts from sitting for a very long time, lol).

Anyway, I updated Love Letters from the Skies to the West Coast Chapter 5. Hope you enjoy!

Merry Christmas to y'all.

I got pretty fed up with looking for words to replace said because they weren’t sorted in a way I could easily use/find them for the right time. So I did some myself.

IN RESPONSE TO Acknowledged Answered Protested

INPUT/JOIN CONVERSATION/ASK Added Implored Inquired Insisted Proposed Queried Questioned Recommended Testified

GUILTY/RELUCTANCE/SORRY Admitted Apologized Conceded Confessed Professed

FOR SOMEONE ELSE Advised Criticized Suggested

JUST CHECKING Affirmed Agreed Alleged Confirmed

LOUD Announced Chanted Crowed

LEWD/CUTE/SECRET SPY FEEL Appealed Disclosed Moaned

ANGRY FUCK OFF MATE WANNA FIGHT Argued Barked Challenged Cursed Fumed Growled Hissed Roared Swore

SMARTASS Articulated Asserted Assured Avowed Claimed Commanded Cross-examined Demanded Digressed Directed Foretold Instructed Interrupted Predicted Proclaimed Quoted Theorized

ASSHOLE Bellowed Boasted Bragged

NERVOUS TRAINWRECK Babbled Bawled Mumbled Sputtered Stammered Stuttered

SUAVE MOTHERFUCKER Bargained Divulged Disclosed Exhorted

FIRST OFF Began

LASTLY Concluded Concurred

WEAK PUSY Begged Blurted Complained Cried Faltered Fretted

HAPPY/LOL Cajoled Exclaimed Gushed Jested Joked Laughed

WEIRDLY HAPPY/EXCITED Extolled Jabbered Raved

BRUH, CHILL Cautioned Warned

ACTUALLY, YOU’RE WRONG Chided Contended Corrected Countered Debated Elaborated Objected Ranted Retorted

CHILL SAVAGE Commented Continued Observed Surmised

LISTEN BUDDY Enunciated Explained Elaborated Hinted Implied Lectured Reiterated Recited Reminded Stressed

BRUH I NEED U AND U NEED ME Confided Offered Urged

FINE Consented Decided

TOO EMO FULL OF EMOTIONS Croaked Lamented Pledged Sobbed Sympathized Wailed Whimpered

JUST SAYING Declared Decreed Mentioned Noted Pointed out Postulated Speculated Stated Told Vouched

WASN’T ME Denied Lied

EVIL SMARTASS Dictated Equivocated Ordered Reprimanded Threatened

BORED Droned Sighed

SHHHH IT’S QUIET TIME Echoed Mumbled Murmured Muttered Uttered Whispered

DRAMA QUEEN Exaggerated Panted Pleaded Prayed Preached

OH SHIT Gasped Marveled Screamed Screeched Shouted Shrieked Yelped Yelled

ANNOYED Grumbled Grunted Jeered Quipped Scolded Snapped Snarled Sneered

ANNOYING Nagged

I DON’T REALLY CARE BUT WHATEVER Guessed Ventured

I’M DRUNK OR JUST BEING WEIRDLY EXPRESSIVE FOR A POINT/SARCASM Hooted Howled Yowled

I WONDER Pondered Voiced Wondered

OH, YEAH, WHOOPS Recalled Recited Remembered

SURPRISE BITCH Revealed

IT SEEMS FAKE BUT OKAY/HA ACTUALLY FUNNY BUT I DON’T WANT TO LAUGH OUT LOUD Scoffed Snickered Snorted

Avoiding Repetition with Dialogue Tags

Pairing: Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart

Minor: Levi Ackermann/ Hange Zoe, Historia Reiss / Ymir

Tags: Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Teenage Love, Awkward First Times, Slow Burn, POV Armin Arlert, Bottom Armin Arlert, Wet Dreams

Warning: R18 contains sensitive topics

If you are easily triggered by religions, specifically Christianity and Catholicism, I don't think this fic is for you.

I have nothing against these religions and this fic is anything but serious.

Summary: They say the most judgmental people are those who attend church on Sundays.

Despite growing up in a Christian household, Armin Arlert felt overburdened by the pile of ministry activities assigned to him. So he made a pact with himself to never follow in his father's footsteps and become a pastor. With the goal of saving enough money to persuade his parents to let him move to another state after high school, he started accepting paid essay projects in school in secret.

Everything in Armin's busy life seemed manageable until he met Annie Leonhart, a Californian girl whose parents had moved her against her will to Vermont. Upon discovering Armin's secret business, Annie approached him with a unique request- to write love letters for a long-distance lover. To craft the perfect love letters, she would help Armin embark on a journey of firsts— his first kiss, first hug, first date, and first everything in a relationship.thing in a relationship.

‐----‐------‐-----------------------------------------------

Armin stared at the ceiling of his bedroom, which probably hadn't been dusted off since last year. He was quite certain that a spiderweb had recently formed in the corner just above his bed.

No, it wasn't just his imagination or a result of a lack of sleep. That was indeed a real spider web.

Sighing for the third time since he woke up, he decided to finally leave his bed and took the feather duster from one of the cabinets, stood on his bed, and dusted off the ceiling.

Armin hadn’t checked his phone to see the exact time yet, but it was still in the middle of the wee hours, about one or two hours before his father would knock on his door to ask him to join the early morning devotion. It was Sunday, which meant he would be busy later in the day, but his body refused to go back to sleep. He tried to keep himself busy by cleaning his room and organizing his books, from his school textbooks to books on How to strengthen your faith in God written by pastors his father had met at a church conference in New York.

Despite all his efforts to keep busy, he couldn’t get his mind off his previous conversation with Annie the night before.

“Who reads love letters nowadays? Does she think this is 1965 London?” He whispered in annoyance as he stacked his old notebooks inside one of the shoe boxes.

Rejecting her request was probably one of the toughest decisions he had made as a young adult. Guilt crawled back into his chest as he recalled the disappointed look in her eyes when she failed to get help from him. Armin wondered why she couldn’t write the letter herself; she could've expressed her feelings better.

Or?

It could be that she had already tried but couldn't come up with the words.

Armin closed the shoe box and slid it further beneath his bed.

He sighed.

Whatever the reason, Armin didn’t know. He had already given his answer, and that was that.

When Armin was sure that everything was in order in his room, he walked to his bedside table and pulled the charging cable from his phone. He scrolled through messages in his inbox and found a text from Marco from the night before.

Marco: Hey, man. Are you free for a call?

Das won’t be able to make it to church tomorrow.

He has some school projects due.

Can you substitute for drums tomorrow?

So sorry to bother you at this time.

Armin pursed his lips as he typed a response, but he left it unsent. There was no point in replying if he was going to say no. It had been a year since he last practiced drums. He didn’t know the song lineup for tomorrow, and even if he did, he needed some time to practice again, or he'd embarrass himself in front of the churchgoers. Plus, he didn't want to be on the same stage as Jean.

Armin turned his head, slightly tilted, and switched off his phone, shoving it under the pillow. He stood up and made his way to the bathroom. As soon as he opened the bathroom door, a faint smell of bright citrus greeted his nostrils. It must have been Annie’s perfume from the night before. He reached out to take the rubber band from the top of the tissue holder to tie up his hair, but something caught his attention.

He had a habit of folding the tip of the tissue paper into a triangle shape. Aside from it looking neat, it would be easier to pull it down the next time he needed to use it.

Armin grimaced at the thought of her faking an emergency. At the very least, she could have put on a more believable act — such a weird girl.

The boy spent the last hour arranging his toiletries, replacing doormats and restocking toilet paper. He lit a scented candle before he decided to get ready for the day. He picked out the best suit he had: a well-pressed white long-sleeve shirt and a navy-blue necktie that his mother had given him on his 15th birthday. He laid the garments on his bed along with matching trousers.

It must have been around a quarter to six when his dad knocked on his door to ask him to join the morning devotion. He obediently followed the old man and went on with his day, almost forgetting about Annie.

Once he and his family reached the church, his father went to one of the rooms to speak with some leaders. Armin immediately approached Marco as soon as he spotted him with the band. He apologized for not reading his text message earlier. The freckled boy shrugged his shoulders and assured Armin that there was nothing to worry about since Das had made it to the church on time.

Next, Armin attempted to approach Jean, since he was still a member of his group, but the taller boy didn't seem to be in the mood for conversation, so he was ignored. Later, Armin found out from Marco that Jean’s mother had discovered some erotic magazines under his bed and had informed the pastor. So, much to Jean’s dismay, he received an invitation from the pastor to attend a prayer meeting after the service.

It wasn't good news for Armin either; it meant he had to stay back with Jean for the prayer meeting since he belonged to his group. That was the downside of being a youth leader.

Glancing at the multimedia team, who were busy setting up cameras and lighting on the podium, Armin tried to spot any sign of his green-eyed best friend, but it seemed he hadn't yet arrived at the church, as usual. He found Zeke in the control room, placing large headphones over his ears as he conducted a sound-check.

Then he looked around and spotted his mother sitting in the front row, engaged in a conversation with Mrs. Jaeger. The walk down the aisle was not as easy as on ordinary days, but on Sundays, as the son of a pastor, people would swarm around Armin, asking him random questions such as, "How are you?" "We saw your family picture on Facebook — such an admirable, perfect family." "How's your youth group going?" "How's school?" "Oh, you look so much taller than the last time I saw you."

Interactions used to be fun when Armin was young, but nowadays, he's growing tired of faking smiles. Out of politeness, he acts the same way—faking, pretending, lying. Armin could tell he's been good at acting like the perfect son. But in the eyes of God, he's not, and he's tired of it.

"Armin!"

He whirls around, flashing the same fake smile he has displayed on his face for the past twenty minutes. "Hi, Floch!"

The ginger-haired boy with a horrible bird's nest hairstyle nudged him on the shoulder as he walked alongside him. "Have you asked Ymir and Historia about the youth camp?"

Not this question again.

Armin inhaled deeply before responding to the question. "Not yet, but I don't think—"

"Deadline for registration is tomorrow. You can ask them to sign up then if they really can't make it — we'll just give their slots to other people. Registration is free unless they have already confirmed, so nothing to worry about," Floch suggests, shrugging his shoulders before he turns and disappears into the crowd.

Armin wasn't fond of Floch's idea. As far as he remembers, nothing had been mentioned about registration fees when the leaders briefed them about the camp. But maybe nothing would be lost if he could give it a shot when he drops by Ymir's house after school tomorrow. That's what he thought.

As soon as the boy settled himself next to his mother, he greeted them, acknowledging their presence. Mrs. Jaeger waved at him, smiling. He sat properly, like the model son he is, before his eyes wandered — glancing at the podium, at the crookedly mounted lapel, and at the people taking group photos in the corner of the room. He overheard his mother opening another topic to talk about with Mrs. Jaeger.

"Mr. Leonhart cannot make it today," his mother sighs. "I'll need to send him today's gospel." She picked up her phone from her bag and snapped a photo of the monitor on stage with some Bible verses written on it.

Mrs. Jaeger leaned closer to Mrs. Arlert's shoulder to barely whisper, a conversation Armin could clearly hear. "I heard he's having trouble with his daughter. You know, the one who just moved here from San Fran."

"Oh, really? I met the girl once; she seems nice. What about it?" Mrs. Arlert inquired while texting the person they were gossiping about. Multitasking clearly runs in the Arlert family. Armin rolled his eyes at the thought.

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Pairing: Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart Minor: - Tags: Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Teenage Love, Awkward First Times, Slow Burn, POV Armin Arlert, Bottom Armin Arlert, Wet Dreams Warning: R18 - This chapter contains Teen M*st*rb*tion. If you are easily triggered by religions, specifically Christianity and Catholicism, I don't think this fic is for you. I have nothing against these religions and this fic is anything but serious. Summary: They say the most judgmental people are those who attend church on Sundays. Despite growing up in a Christian household, Armin Arlert felt overburdened by the pile of ministry activities assigned to him. So he made a pact with himself to never follow in his father's footsteps and become a pastor. With the goal of saving enough money to persuade his parents to let him move to another state after high school, he started accepting paid essay projects in school in secret. Everything in Armin's busy life seemed manageable until he met Annie Leonhart, a Californian girl whose parents had moved her against her will to Vermont. Upon discovering Armin's secret business, Annie approached him with a unique request- to write love letters for a long-distance lover. To craft the perfect love letters, she would help Armin embark on a journey of firsts— his first kiss, first hug, first date, and first everything in a relationship.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The fall season no longer excites Armin. He has witnessed it every year at the same time throughout his life. He observes as tourists come and go, both before and after the fall foliage. He watches the same hue of brilliant gold, red, and orange leaves falling from the branches of the trees. He sees the same bridge crowded with people, much like bees swarming around a honeycomb.

Then there's Mikasa, who won't stop talking about Halloween decorations in the shop and incessantly browses online for goth dresses she plans to wear.

Bell dings

Next, Eren starts rambling about Thanksgiving food and community activities they could participate in.

"Uhm,"

And the busiest month of the year is approaching because, well, you-know-whose birthday is coming. Although it's not yet December, their church is already holding meetings and preparing for the holiday season.

"Hi."

Armin sighed, just thinking about these activities was enough to make him feel exhausted. Anyway, it's been two weeks since he last saw Annie, and he wonders what she's been up to lately.

"...Earth to you. HEY!"

Armin snapped out of his thoughts, flinching. Involuntarily, he placed his hands on the cashier and looked up at the customer on the other side of the counter.

"Good morning, Ah–" he was interrupted, or more accurately, surprised when his eyes suddenly met hers, a striking blue reminiscent of the spring sky.

Annie frowned at the sight of him, crossing her arms. Her face was flushed, and her porcelain-white skin glistened as if she had been out for a run. She was dressed in her workout clothes: a white tank top that ended just below her ribcage, revealing her well-toned abs over an unzipped windbreaker.

She had caught the attention of all the customers in the shop, particularly the men sipping their coffee. Armin wondered just how much of her skin was exposed this time.

“Can I order now?” She hissed, engaging in a staring contest with him.

“Ah, yeah, sure.” Out of panic, Armin accidentally closed the order app on the tablet, but he quickly reopened it. “What would you like to order?” he asked, sweating as he entered the password incorrectly twice.

"What excellent customer service you have," she commented, stepping forward and looking down at the menu. "I'd like a cup of cappuccino, Belgian waffles with extra maple syrup and whipped cream," she continued, flipping the menu to the next page, "and one slice of Oreo Cheesecake."

"Is this supposed to be breakfast?" he asked, tilting his head and placing his other hand on his waist.

"Well, yeah," she replied, flipping to the next page of the menu. "Are you going to take my order, or should I leave a bad review on Google?"

Armin huffed and rolled his eyes, tapping her order on the tablet. "Is there anything else?"

"That's all."

"$15.50," he said.

Annie retrieved a card from the pocket of her windbreaker, but before she could hand it to him, Armin pointed at the small sign above the coffee bean bottle. "Cash only," he read out loud.

Annie pursed her lips, closing her eyes, and the skin around her nose bridge wrinkled. "Why don't you have an AmEx machine?"

Armin shrugged his shoulders, amused at her reaction. "We're just a small shop in a small town."

"Hey, lady in front, come on! The queue is getting longer!" a girl yelled from behind the line.

He smiled apologetically at the girl. "Just a few more minutes, Hitch. I'll put extra caramel drizzle on your macchiato later." Then, his eyes returned to Annie.

"You promised that, Arlert."

Annie's face turned red. "Fine, cancel my order. Just give me a glass of water."

"Unfortunately, I already punched in your order," Armin sang, turning to the fridge to get a bottle of water. He reached into his back pocket for his wallet. "The total is $17, including the bottle of water. You can pay me the next time we meet." He placed the notes on the cashier and handed her the receipt. "Your name will be called once your order is ready."

He smiled at her, and she took the bottle of water and receipt from his hand. "I'll come back in the afternoon to pay you," she said, then spun around quickly and walked away from the queue to find a vacant table. She made her way to a table near the window.

Armin's smile immediately disappeared when he discovered the source of all the attention from behind.

She was wearing grey yoga shorts that fit her too snugly, emphasizing her perfectly shaped buttocks, and were too short to hide her gluteal curves. Armin's jaw dropped at the sight of her backside.

Hitch stepped closer to the counter, following his gaze. She squinted her emerald eyes when she caught him staring and raised her hand to push his chin up, urging him to close his mouth. "Armin, can you take my order first before you let your hormones run wild?" she raised an eyebrow, shaking her purse to get his attention.

"Yeah, right, right," he said, blinking rapidly and swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat as he take other customers' orders. Occasionally, he would sneak glances at her.

When Mikasa returned from her break, Armin asked her to take over the cashier so he could prepare some orders. He quickly prepared Annie's order, but as he was about to call her name, he noticed some boys looking at her, teasing each other about who would make a move first.

Armin clicked his tongue, feeling a slight sting in his chest as he left the counter and took the tray with Annie's order to personally deliver it to her table.

She was leaning on the table, her chin resting on her hand, and her other arm bent at the edge of the table. She was looking out the window, observing the people outside the shop as they went about their daily lives.

Armin placed the tray on her table and stood next to her, feeling the tips of his blonde strands touching his jaw as he looked down at her.

She looked up at him, the skin between her eyebrows creased. "What now?"

"Annie, how’s your injuries?" he whispered.

“I’m fine now, I guess. My feet don’t hurt anymore.” She ran her fingers towards her knees.

Armin was aware that the boys at the next table were glaring at him. He clenched his hand into a fist before he spoke again, "You know this town isn't like California. You can't wear those kinds of clothes on the streets."

"Why would you care?" She retorted, blinking her eyes slowly as if she was bored with his talking.

"Because—"

"Armin!" Hitch interrupted him. "I'm sorry for breaking your little Cinderella moment there, but I'm still waiting for my order."

"One sec!" he negotiated for a little more time with Annie.

"No, now!" Hitch demanded.

Armin made a sound, as if he was trying to suppress a complaint, but he still turned to go back to the counter. Annie looked down at her orders and noticed two small blue macarons placed just beside her waffle. "Hey, I didn't order these—"

"You don't have to pay me. Consider it my treat today," Armin shouted from across the shop.

Unfortunately, luck was not on Armin's side. Of all the times he wanted to talk to Annie, the shop was packed. The queue had already reached the entrance door, with Mikasa preparing the orders while Armin was stuck at the cashier, taking one order after another.

When he glanced at Annie's table, she rose from her seat, stretching her arms, lifting her already short tank top a bit higher, revealing more of her porcelain skin and gaining the attention of every boy in the shop.

Armin was starting to think she was doing it on purpose.

Why was she so thirsty for attention?

He watched her return the tray at the counter, and she didn't even glance at him as she hurriedly exited the shop and started to jog away.

Armin sighed, his shoulders slumping in disappointment as he continued working. He could have at least asked for her contact number.

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Pairing: Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart

Minor: -

Tags: Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Teenage Love, Awkward First Times, Slow Burn, POV Armin Arlert, Bottom Armin Arlert

Warning: If you are easily triggered by religions, specifically Christianity and Catholicism, I don't think this fic is for you.

I have nothing against these religions and this fic is anything but serious.

Summary: They say the most judgmental people are those who attend church on Sundays.

Despite growing up in a Christian household, Armin Arlert felt overburdened by the pile of ministry activities assigned to him. So he made a pact with himself to never follow in his father's footsteps and become a pastor. With the goal of saving enough money to persuade his parents to let him move to another state after high school, he started accepting paid essay projects in school in secret.

Everything in Armin's busy life seemed manageable until he met Annie Leonhart, a Californian girl whose parents had moved her against her will to Vermont. Upon discovering Armin's secret business, Annie approached him with a unique request: to write love letters for a long-distance lover. To craft the perfect love letters, she would help Armin embark on a journey of firsts— his first kiss, first hug, first date, and first everything in a relationship.

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